There Goes Paradise
by SolitaryPeak
Summary: Elenwë has escaped from Sauron's torment after years of captivity. It had been decades since he had seen the sun... or socialized with others. Will he be able to recover, mentally and physically, from torment? Or will his years of primitive treatment prevent him from earning the love of another? Second Age. In the universe of my story, Hand in Hand, but not necessary to read it.
1. Chapter 1

Thank you for dropping by! This story is a spin off of my story _Hand in Hand_ at the request of 's no need to read it to read this story, or vice versa. I will be keeping it fairly short, however, if it comes to it, I'll continue longer. The title is from Hurts by Emelie Sande.

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Elenwë dashed through the burnt, tired expanse of dead trees and his bare feet slammed against the rigid stone. The sun was shining, and he threw up his arm to shield it from his eyes. His heart was beating too fast to feel like anything less than a hummingbirds wings. He looked behind him, his eyes searching for any sign of resistance. He could hear grunts, and he suppressed a panicked cry, and bit his knuckles. His partner was nowhere to be found, and he ignored the fearful tears that spattered onto his temples. He found a fallen hollow tree trunk full of dead leaves. The smell of decay and the 4 inches of gunk didn't stop him from jamming his body into the log, tearing the skin from his shoulders. He hurriedly kicked the muck over his feet and shivered, waiting. He could see his breath, floating toward the opening of the log in one slow, graceful fog.

An orcs face appeared and he suppressed a scream, the other tearing him from the log, repeeling the skin from his arms and leaving it inside the log.

"Trying to play hide and go seek?" The Orc laughed and Elenwë screamed, agonizing bile rising in his throat. He'd been caught. He was going back, and he'd lose a limb for sure. The Orc was suddenly on the ground, a stick wedged into his head. His escape partner was standing there, blood on his face.

"Let's go."

The other Orc growled and he clubbed him with a branch, knocking him to the ground.

"Alinon!" Elenwë cried, and he helped him to his feet.

"Let's go, we do not have much time."

They dashed through the forest, and Elenwë could hear steps not far behind them.

"You must keep going," Alinon whispered, "Do not stop running. Do _not_ stop, Elenwë."

"I cannot leave you-"

"I cannot run any longer," Alinon breathed. His ankle was bleeding. "But you can. Go. I will find you."

"Alinon-"

"Go!"

Elenwë took off with a shot, the roar of orcs filling the field. Elenwë ran and ran until the sun was nearly ready to set, and he stepped on a sharp rock and fell. His foot was torn open, and he realized most of his body was covered in blood. He sat between two tree trunks and wiped at the blood on his foot, wiping it on the grass. He whimpered, looking around the field. He soon rose and limped between the trees until he found a road, and followed alongside of it, a safe distance. He slept alongside a tree, shivering and starving. He was used to the sensation, but now he wasn't sure how to get food. Or water. Or clothes. He heard dogs barking and whimpered, crawling up into the tree with weak desperation. His ribs scraped against the bark, and he climbed as high as he could before the dogs were upon him. They snapped up at him, and he hugged his knees to his chest and rocked, watching them.

"Please," he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.

"By the valar!" Someone shouted, and he flinched, climbing up higher into the tree.

"Silence!" the man called and the dogs stopped barking. "What is that?" He asked his companion on the horse next to him.

"He is, of the eldar-" he whispered.

"Hey you!" He called and Elenwë flinched. "Come down!"

"You must be more gentle," The other said, "clearly, something has happened here."

He walked over to the tree, and looked up at him. "Come, now. We do not wish to hurt you. We wish to help you." Elenwë stared. The man began to scale the tree, and Elenwë tensed.

"Do not fear," the man said and reached his branch, putting out his hand. "My name is Hered. What is yours?"

Elenwë didn't answer, and Hered didn't move.

"Come down with me, I would like to help you. I have food and water. Medicine." Elenwë twitched, his stomach growling.

"I am not going to keep you hostage," He pulled out his canteen, "here."

Elenwë took it from him and drank the water dry with passion, water running down his chin.

"I have plenty more. Come now." Elenwë turned to look at him and his face was kind. He put out his hand.

"I will help you down so you do not hurt yourself." Elenwë took his hand hesitantly and Hered climbed from the tree and helped him down. He fell into his arms, and hid his face in Hered's warm fur cloak. It was soft, made for a prince.

"By the valar," The other said, "Look at his face. He is some mutilated thrall of Morgoth." Elenwë hid his face in the other man's cloak again.

What was wrong with his face? No one else had ever said anything.

"Leave him be," The other said and ran his hand over the back of Elenwë's matted hair. He untied his cloak and Elenwë watched, fearful. He wrapped it around Elenwë's shoulders and he gasped, the soft warmth of the velvet within shocking to his rough skin. Hered lifted him up onto the horse, and sat behind him.

"He is an elf. What are we to do with him?"

"I do not know," Hered said and wrapped his arms around Elenwë to grab the reigns.

"Lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

They rode for several hours, and Elenwë began to question his actions. Where were they going? Why would they wish to help him? Perhaps there was a price for escaped thralls that Sauron offered or something of the like. Hered never spoke, he simply rode on. It was nightfall when the sound of horses lit panic in Elenwë's heart. Elenwe assumed they would ignore the patrol, before Hered rose his voice.

"Over here!"

The patrol stopped, and their leader waved them toward the trio. The leader was curious and looking over Elenwë. They had terrible helmets of silver and long cloaks and swords. The leader was the most terrifying of them all. Although he had a kind face, his was adorned in gold and silver, the finest silks covered his body.

"We found this elf, some escaped thrall perhaps-"

Elenwë turned and stared into Hered's face desperately.

"They will help you," Hered whispered and smiled gently, "I cannot."

"Has he spoken?" The captain asked.

"No." Hered said quietly, "I am not sure if he can."

The captain cleared his throat, "We shall take him. We have healers that are familiar with thralls and their needs."

Hered got off his horse and pulled a shaking Elenwë down after him. He took his cloak back, and Elenwë stood, shivering and facing the commander, who cursed under his breath. "Where is the blood from?"

"I am not sure, I have not looked at him carefully."

"We will field treat him," The captain sighed. "My name is Elrond. I am the herald of Ereinion Gil Galad." He said and bowed his head. "Come with us, we will help you." Elrond untied his cloak, and wrapped it around Elenwe's shoulders. He shivered, and Elrond helped him up onto his horse. They made camp an hour or so later, and Elrond helped him off the horse as carefully as he had helped him on.

"I will set up a place for you to sleep, after which I will clean some of those wounds."

Elenwë watched him roll out his bedroll awkwardly, afraid he would grow angry with him for standing there.

"Come here, Mellon nin," Elrond said gently and Elenwë tottered toward him. He wrapped the cloak around him tighter and sat him down on the bedroll. Someone brought him a bowl of water and he tore a cloth from his tunic. Elenwë flinched and Elrond smiled.

"There are more, do not fret."

He dipped the cloth in the water and wiped his face, inches of grime peeling from his face. "My goodness," Elrond said, and Elenwë shied away, knowing something must be wrong with his face. "You've got quite a fair amount of dirt on you." Elrond said. Elenwë looked at the white cloth and looked up at Elrond, surprised.

"That came off me?" Elenwe whispered.

Elrond grinned. "It did. You will have a real bath soon, and we can get it all off."

He wiped his arm and Elenwë hissed. "It appears you pulled the skin right off, there." Elrond said and looked at the other side. Elenwë wore nothing but a tattered cloth around his waist, and Elrond felt his ribs for breaks. "You have broken these before, hmm?"

Elenwë shrugged and Elrond smiled and noted his feet, his smile rushing away. There were raw, deep cuts on his feet.

"How-"

"I ran," Elenwë murmured.

Elrond frowned and pulled rolls of bandages from his bag before he wrapped his feet, two rolls each. He then pulled an extra pair of boots from his bag and fastened them to Elenwë's feet.

"Are they comfortable?"

Elenwë shrugged. He hadn't worn shoes in decades.

"What is your name?" Elrond asked. He could see the struggle, the strain in Elenwë's body. He was far weaker than he was letting Elrond believe.

"Elenwë."

"Elenwë?" Elrond tried the quenya name on his tongue. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

He pulled a tunic over his head and tied the cloak around him before encouraging him to lie down in the bedroll. He did, and a blanket was draped over him. He pretended to sleep, and Elrond sighed to the other.

"He is incredibly weak," Elrond said, "His body will catch up with him and he will be sickly indeed."

"His face-"

"I know." Elrond said. "Clearly he is a thrall of Sauron."

"The others were shaken but-"

"He has been captive for many years. His body shows signs of decades, maybe centuries, of damage. He seemed confused by his boots. They have trained him to be obedient. Fearful of pain. Valar knows what they have done to him." Elrond said.

"You will take him to Baineth?"

"Yes. She has always been good with the rescued thralls and soldiers. Her center is the best outside Lindon itself."

"But this one is-"

"A challenge. They will be up to it."

Elrond woke Elenwë early the next morning, and the rest of the patrol was either staring or avoiding his gaze. He curled within himself, and the cold wind whipped at his face.

"Come, Mellon nin. We must get going. You can stay in the cloak and boots. Do not worry."

Elenwë stood and Elrond rolled up the bedroll before helping him onto the horse. They rode until dusk, and Elenwë's head rested on Elrond's shoulder, his body exhausted and sore.

"Are you alright?" Elrond asked, touching his chest. Elenwë nodded. He enjoyed the conversation of the soldiers. It was a calm lull of comfortable familiarity between comrades. Something he had not seen since his days with his family. After a time Elrond slowed to a stop, and a large building stood before them.

"My friend is a healer here. She healed me when I was badly injured, and was very kind. She will help you."

"You are leaving me here?" Elenwe asked softly.

"I must. But I will be back to see you soon. I would not leave you unless I was sure it would help you. Come."

Elrond helped him off the horse and Elenwe's legs gave out. Elrond lifted him into his arms, his head lolling over his elbow. The doors were opened for him and within lay many cots with injured soldiers. A healer approached, his sleeves soaked in blood.

"Elrond. Who is this?"

"A new friend. Where is Baineth?"

"She is assisting in surgery right now. She should be done soon."

Elrond nodded. "I would like for him to be semi private." Elrond whispered.

"Of course," The healer led him to a room upstairs and Elrond set him down on the bed.

"I will wait for Baineth."

The healer nodded and left them, and Elrond grinned and unwrapped Elenwe from the cloak.

"You can keep it. And the boots," He promised and Elenwë nodded, shaking with fear. The door opened and Baineth walked in, her hands freshly washed.

"Hello, Elrond."

"Hello," He said with a grin. "This is my new friend, Elenwë."

"Hello, Elenwë. My name is Baineth. I am an assistant healer." He nodded, and she sat in the chair next to the bed. "Is it alright with you if I examine you?"

He nodded, and she untied his boots and pulled them off. The bandages were soaked in blood, and she tossed it to the ground.

"That's quite a cut Mellon nin."

Elrond looked up at her, "that is just the beginning."

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Thanks for reading! Please review.


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